Wow, dad just brought my box of stuff to mom’s. And I decided to save this blog, but I won’t start writing again until I’ve caught myself up! Because it has been intense! Maybe my past and my present and my future are all colliding. Tense. (Thank’s “siri”)

I have a delete problem ,
I have wanted to walk away.
I don’t want to see ,
what’s in front of my face.
I’m a problematic ,
asthmatic anxiety attack.
Someone took from me.
I’m taking it back.
But best not fuck with
what’s been fucked with ,
because what used to flinch ,
now speaks with words
like she speaks with her fists.

I do have a delete problem. I get embarrassed sometimes, when I share my heart or my soul or my journey, I overshare and then sit here alone wondering why I exposed myself or allowed myself to be so naked. Those of you who used to read emmabush.com, my first blog, where I first began to open up on personal topics, like depression, anxiety, substance abuse, and life post trauma… you probably wonder where all that I wrote went?